


trembling hands

by misslestrange274



Category: Harlots (TV)
Genre: Angst and Porn, Cunnilingus, F/F, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Shameless Smut, this is just some sinful self indulgent porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 14:07:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11579628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslestrange274/pseuds/misslestrange274
Summary: Nancy Birch found out her judgment can be easily impaired by a pair of pretty doe eyes and some gin.





	trembling hands

**Author's Note:**

> Nancy Birch is a huge lesbian, I don't make the rules. I have nothing to say in my defence, this is just some self indulgent filth/trash. There is some indirect mention or rape and sexual violence, but nothing graphic or major. Also, for the sake of not being creepy, let's pretend Lucy's 18, whooooops, I'll probably burn in hell. 
> 
> British English is not exactly my forte, especially 18th century British slang, so please bear with me, I just wanted to write some trash for my own enjoyment. I figured since the show is not really consistent when it comes to historical accuracy I can allow myself some laziness lol.
> 
> I used a list of word/phrase prompts from tumblr, as I usually do. 
> 
> prompt: trembling hands

Nancy Birch didn’t really care much for harlot sob stories. It’s not that she didn’t empathise. Hell, she’d been the harlot with a sob story once upon a time, but that was a part of her life she preferred to wash down with gin every time it showed its ugly face somewhere at the back of her mind. She just didn’t like to get involved. If you were in the business long enough, you learned that you just couldn’t help everyone. It was bound to eat you slowly from the inside, all those stories of pain, abuse, rape, poverty, neglect. It was for the best to let everyone sort out their own problems. Nancy had sorted out her own and her girls’. That was the best she could do - take care of her own.

Yes, she’d taken in the likes of that Emily Lacey. It was a sort of a slip up, but she couldn’t have just left her to bleed on the streets.

Still, bloody harlot had brought her nothing but trouble. Nancy hoped charity wouldn’t become a habit of hers in her mature years. She couldn’t go soft. She had a reputation to uphold, after all.

(But then again pretty girls with wide pleading eyes were sort of her weak spot.)

Nancy was slouched in her armchair, one leg draped over the armrest, drinking her afternoon gin and smoking. She was dressed casually, in a shirt and breeches, her coat thrown over the armchair and her tricorn hat resting on the small table beside her.

She revelled in the burn smoke and liquor left in her throat. Her mind was pleasantly hazy from the alcohol, her thoughts delightfully blurry. She absentmindedly stroked her birch rod. It was a perfect, slow Monday afternoon. She still had a while until some of the regulars showed up. She closed her eyes, drew in a long smoke, hummed in pleasure as she did so.

A sudden knock on the door made Nancy flinch. She sighed, put out her cigar and walked towards the door. It better be something important. Cigars were expensive and Nancy hated being interrupted.

She was fully prepared to tell whoever was disrupting her peaceful afternoon to bugger off, but as soon as she opened the door and saw those lovely doe-like eyes of one Lucy Wells, words got stuck in her throat.

“Lucy? What’re you doin’ here?” Nancy realised she was slurring. She must have drank more gin than she’d thought.

“I… I wanted to talk to you.” Lucy seemed hesitant. “But if you’re busy, I can go. I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“Nonsense,” Nancy heard herself say. “Com’on in.”

Nancy stepped aside, letting Lucy enter the house. She found herself staring at the lovely curve of Lucy’s white neck. Her skin looked ethereal, porcelain, so very touchable. Nancy averted her eyes.

(Yes, she had most certainly had too much gin.)

Nancy’s thoughts were hazy, the only thing crystal clear in her mind Lucy’s pink lips that moved so enchantingly as she spoke. “Where are your girls?”

“They’re out, somewhere or other.” Nancy blinked away her thoughts. What on Earth was she thinking? She was way too drunk and Margaret’s daughter had gotten way too fetching in the last year or two. Precisely the reason why Nancy had started to avoid being alone with her. But somehow, here she was, alone with the youngest Wells girl. And drunk. Lovely.

“What did you wanna talk about?” Nancy figured she should get this over with as soon as possible.

“Can we sit?” Lucy asked, her big blue eyes pleading.

Nancy wanted to say they should wrap it up, since she had a cigar she wanted to smoke in peace, but somehow she found herself saying something else entirely. “Sure. Come.”

(Definitely going soft.)

She led Lucy back to the room she’d been smoking and drinking in just a couple of minutes before. She threw herself on the armchair next to the table on which rested her gin and the not-meant-to-be cigar.

“Make yourself comfortable.”

Lucy cautiously sat on the chair across Nancy’s. She was staring at the floor, looking a bit out of place, her blonde locks falling in lovely curls across her face. Nancy wondered how it would feel to run her hands through those silky curls, maybe see where else on her body she had curls Nancy could touch.

(Honestly, she should pull herself together. Lucy was less than half her age.)

“I couldn’t talk about this with Ma, and I didn’t know where else to go.” Lucy finally lifted her gaze. Her lovely blue eyes were big, scared, had a look of a cornered animal. Nancy knew that look.

Nancy sighed, grabbed that bottle of gin. To hell with everything. She needed more alcohol to handle this. She took a big swig before speaking.

“Someone hurt you.” It wasn’t a question.

Lucy’s hands trembled as she spoke. Nancy found herself staring at those thin, delicate fingers.

“I can’t do this, Nanc. I’m not cut out for it. I’m not Charlotte and I’m not Ma. Those men…” Lucy paused, her voce shaky. The air was heavy with words unsaid.

“I just can’t,” she whispered, pointing her gaze downwards, towards those trembling hands. Nancy’s heart ached at the sight of it all.

Nancy took another swig of gin. She had made a promise to herself, long ago, when she first opened the brothel, to harden her heart for the sob stories. Nothing could be done. It was the ruthlessness of the business they were in.

But Nancy just couldn’t stop looking at those lovely, lovely hands, that once so surely and elegantly pressed harpsichord keys, making such beautiful music, now trembling with fear, perturbed, troubled. How those men slept at night, knowing they were the cause, Nancy would never know.

Nancy forcefully tore her gaze away from Lucy’s hands. No use being sentimental.

“It’s not your fault, Lucy. You just had bad luck. You’ll find someone you like sooner or later,” Nancy slowly spoke. “You deserve someone who’ll treat you well.”

“It’s not just that, Nanc.” Lucy sounded desperate. “It’s… I don’t know. It’s silly.”

Lucy looked Nancy in the eyes, hesitant, as if asking for permission. “I don’t think I’ll find anyone I like. I… I talked with Charlotte. She likes men. Not all of them, of course. But the idea excites her. And I…I just don’t feel anything. Not when I think about them, not when I see them or talk to them. I’m just indifferent at best.”

Nancy blinked. She was pretty certain she had an idea about what was going on with Lucy.

(But bloody hell, it was as if the devil himself was tempting her, waving Lucy in front of her nose.)

Nancy took another swig of gin and got up. Her vision was a soft blur on the edges.

She took a few steps towards Lucy, squatted in front of the chair Lucy was sitting in, taking those trembling hands of Lucy’s in her own. They were cold. Nancy started to rub her thumbs over them to warm them up.

“Do you know how I got around to doing what I do?” Nancy asked, gently stroking Lucy’s hands. It seemed to have calmed Lucy down a little bit.

(Good heavens, her hands were so soft, it was positively sinful.)

“You mean, running the brothel?” Lucy sounded unsure.

“No, silly, flagellation.”

“Oh.”

“What I do requires no sexual contact with men from my part and that’s fine by me. I have no interest in them.”

“Really? I thought you were just a bit odd in expressing your affections.” The corner of Lucy’s lips formed a smirk.

“Cheeky girl.” Nancy chuckled. “No. To be honest, most of them just deserved a good spankin’.”

Lucy giggled.

(What a delightful sound.)

Lucy’s hands had warmed up, but Nancy didn’t let them go. Lucy didn’t seem to mind.

“Have you never liked a man?”

“No.”

“So you’ve never been in love?” A frown formed on Lucy’s lovely face. Nancy thought even a frown looked rather fetching on her.

“Who says I’ve never been in love? Just not with a man.”

It took a few moments for it to dawn on Lucy.

“Oh,” she said. “And have you…. ever had female clients?”

“I prefer to meet with women outside of my working hours.”

“So, you’ve…”

Lucy’s cheeks were coloured pink. Nancy decided not to have the poor girl spell it out. She seemed embarrassed enough.

“Yes.”

There was a long silence between them. They stared in each other’s eyes, unmoving. Nancy found her gaze running towards Lucy’s lips, pink, plump, so very kissable. Lucy looked positively ravishable, her cheeks flushed, chest falling and rising softly, soft breasts nearly spilling out of her tight dress as they rose with each breath.

Lucy’s gaze fell on Nancy’s hands that were still holding her own. Nancy, suddenly reminded that all of this was highly inappropriate, let go of them and stood up, fully intending to stop this charade before it got out of hand and Margaret strangled her with her bare hands.

She was about to turn around when that delicate hand of Lucy’s grabbed her own. Nancy froze.

“Nancy.”

The sound of her name on the girl’s lips sent a shiver down Nancy’s spine.

“You should go home to your Ma.”

(The last feeble attempt to stop this from escalating. At least she’d be able to say she’d tried.)

“And what will I do there when there are much more interesting things happening here?” A playful smirk adorned Lucy’s face.

“Nothing here but a decrepit old lady, you little minx. Go find someone your own age to experiment with,” Nancy said, but she didn’t shake Lucy’s hand off.

“I don't think you’re old. When I think about it, I did always find you rather handsome.”

The girl trying her best to flirt with her was almost amusing.

(And Nancy hated to admit it, but it was working.)

“Your Ma would kill me.” Nancy’s gaze danced everywhere, avoiding Lucy. She mustn’t look at her or she’d give in.

(May the Lord take pity on her and make Lucy leave.)

“She doesn’t have to know.” Lucy caught Nancy’s gaze.

(Nancy was doomed.)

“You are so much more experienced than I am. I imagine you must have a lot to show me. And I do so wish to learn.”

Nancy swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.

There was a playful gleam in Lucy’s eyes. “What do you do to girls eager to learn, Nancy? Do you spank them if they don’t listen? Do you—”

Lucy was interrupted by Nancy suddenly pulling her close and kissing her forcefully. Lucy whimpered in both pleasure and surprise.

Nancy broke the kiss and pushed Lucy onto the armchair Nancy had been sitting in before. She leaned over her, tangling her fingers with Lucy’s and pinning them on either side of Lucy’s head. Lucy closed her eyes and let out a quiet moan as Nancy leaned in to kiss her collarbone, chest, neck.

(Such soft, creamy skin. Nancy could kiss it all day long.)

“Is this… what I was supposed to feel like with all those men?” Lucy said, her voice breathy.

“I guess so. How do you feel?” Nancy whispered in Lucy’s ear, her hot breath making Lucy shiver.

“Like I’d really like to be ravished right here on this chair.” There it was again, the gleam in Lucy’s eyes.

Nancy didn’t need to be told twice. She kissed Lucy again, ran her hands all over her body, under her skirt, over her smooth thighs, squeezing them, getting closer to where Lucy craved her most. She kissed her way down Lucy’s neck and chest, lowering herself until she was kneeling in front of the girl.

Lucy was a picture from a dream, breathing heavily, pupils blown wide, blonde locks disheveled over the back of the armchair. She was clutching the armrests, her legs were spread, and she was practically begging to be fucked by Nancy.

They locked eyes as Nancy agonisingly slowly lifted Lucy’s skirt. She ran her hands over inner side of the girl’s thighs, enjoying their youthful softness.

“Please, Nancy,” Lucy whimpered.

“Don’t be impatient.” Nancy chuckled and kissed the inside of Lucy’s thigh before biting it. Lucy gasped. Nancy’s teeth left an imprint on her skin.

“Please…”

Oh, bloody hell, Nancy couldn’t resist any longer. She wanted this just as badly as Lucy did.

Nancy wrapped her arms around Lucy’s thighs, lifting one of her legs over the armrest, and then she buried her face in the sweet warmth between Lucy’s legs, greedily licking, hungrily tasting.

Lucy’s moans were loud, shameless, desperate. She tangled her hand in Nancy’s unruly hair, holding her closer, moving her hips in unadulterated pleasure. Her other hand was clutching the armrest so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

“God, Nancy,” she practically sobbed. “Don’t stop.”

Nancy stopped. She looked Lucy straight in the eyes, a mischievous smirk on her face.

“You’re so mean,” Lucy whimpered. “Please, Nancy, I need—”

“And you’re a greedy little girl.” Nancy gave her a slow, long lick. Lucy bucked her hips.

“Say it. Say, I’m a greedy little girl, Nancy, and I want you to fuck me.” Oh, she did so enjoy seeing Lucy all flustered.

“Please, Nancy. I’m a greedy little girl and I want you to fuck me,” Lucy breathed out, her breasts rising and falling with each breath. It was a sinfully gorgeous sight.

Nancy decided she had tortured the poor girl long enough. She buried her head back between Lucy’s thighs, flicked her tongue in circles over Lucy’s clit, this time using a finger to fuck her, curling it upwards inside Lucy’s velvet heat, hitting a sweet spot that made Lucy buck her hips and pull Nancy closer by her hair.

Lucy’s moans were almost sobs as her orgasm hit, wave after wave. Nancy felt the hot silky walls clench around her finger, heard Lucy’s breath hitch and her voice shake, and with the corner of her eye she saw Lucy’s hand that had been clutching the armrest now grasping aimlessly in the air, shaking, trembling.

Nancy couldn’t tear her gaze away from the trembling hand, that finally, as Lucy slowly came down from her high, stopped shaking and now laid peacefully on the armrest.

Somehow, that gave Nancy’s soul a sense of peace.


End file.
